


vulnerable

by jnseng



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Angst, Chapter 217, Childhood Trauma, Crying, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 04:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12548528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jnseng/pseuds/jnseng
Summary: He Tian comforts Guan Shan when he’s at his worst.





	vulnerable

**Author's Note:**

> oof another garbage fic, tbh I really don’t like this cause I fuckin rushed so bad but this chapter fucked me up and I wanted to write something so whatever enjoy y’all
> 
> also, semi-inspired by Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood, just the end of the bridge though cause I was listening to it while I wrote this lmao

“I’m here.” It sounded like a promise—since when did He Tian make promises?

They were crouched on the pavement together. Had been like that for the past ten minutes, yet it felt so much longer. Ten minutes of Guan Shan crying with his face hidden from the teen before him. He couldn’t let him see _this_.

He didn’t remember running out of the restaurant. He’d only heard the clack of plates before feeling the doors pushed open against his palms. It was instinctual—a fight or flight response—and his feet were thumping against the ground before he realized he’d even gotten up. Panicked response from memories he’d tried so desperately to forget that resurfaced all at once. His feet carried him through busy streets and past lit-up convenience stores, only his labored breathing and rubber soles against the asphalt were heard as he kept running. It hurt and he wanted to stop to breathe, but he needed to escape. He Tian had caught up quickly and grabbed his elbow tightly. Fingers pressing into his arm like he was afraid that he’d disappear if he let go. Everything felt like it was moving faster than he was, leaving him behind as he crouched down with nausea, bile rising and spilling onto the ground. Swift body moved to situate itself it front of him, holding him steady as he choked out sobs. His eyes burned with salty tears that wouldn’t stop, no matter how much he rubbed at his face with his hands, raw and red. There was a sharp pain in his chest and he couldn’t breathe at this point.

He Tian was silent the entire time and Guan Shan would’ve forgotten that he was there if it wasn’t for the warm hand resting against the back of his neck. It might have been meant to provide comfort, but it wasn’t working. A useless distraction from the clench he felt in his chest. The slight brush of fingers through the shorn hairs raising goosebumps across his skin. He expected He Tian to say something at this point. Anything. He was silent.

It took a while, desperate sobs quieting to muffled cries that he tried to bite back. Was it always this bad? Had he always been this weak? There was a faint rustling of fabric and shift of long fingers that drew him out of his thoughts. Dark hair and powerful presence luring him in like a lighthouse guiding vessels to shore. What did he want? A question—demand—that prodded at his mind like the dull throb behind his eyes. Pressing on, unwanted. Seeing him like this, hunched over and sobbing over a puddle of vomit, did it make him feel good? Did he feel superior? There wasn’t any other reason why he would stay. He was weak and it made He Tian feel strong.

“Why are you doing this,” it came out hoarse, like his throat was made of sandpaper. He wanted to take it back, but it was too late. Did he want to hear it? He knew what he’d say, but hearing it aloud would make it real the way it hadn’t been before. It would be a confirmation that he’d never wanted.

He Tian finally spoke for the first time in over ten minutes. “Because I care about you.”

Silence.

A shared moment where eyes met, glinting from street lamps in the evening sky. Disbelief. They were staring at each other now without the tense atmosphere that lingered prior. He was shaking. It wasn’t cold that night and the air was warm against his damp skin. He wondered if He Tian could feel it with the hand wound around the back of his neck. Slight tremors coursing through him so faintly that it would’ve gone unnoticed by others. Was there anything about him that He Tian didn’t pick up on? It made him feel vulnerable. Under his cold, calculating stare like he was being dissected.

 _Because I care about you?_ He scoffed at that, fracturing the quietness. Why would _he_ —someone who had everything, could have anyone—care about _him_? They were incompatible, opposing forces that clashed without end. Guan Shan chose to use violence to solve problems, like his fists were louder than words. He was willing to be bruised and scarred to prove a point. Yet He Tian used sharp words and deceiving charm in his favor, winning the trust of others for his benefit. He was brutal, yet he could be so selfless when he wanted. Like when he’d fought She Li for him. Permanent scar across the palm of his hand serving as a reminder of that. Was that what it meant to care about someone? He wouldn’t know. Did he even mean that much to He Tian? Did he mean that much to anyone?

“Well, you have a weird fucking way of showing it,” came the hushed reply. It didn’t sum up what he’d been thinking nor what he’d wanted to say at all. It was a half-hearted attempt at marred humor to avoid the discussion they would have to have. He Tian played along with a dry laugh, cut off midway.

“Yeah. I know.” It sounded unamused, like he knew what he was like. He knew how he was around others versus Guan Shan, self-aware of the way he acted out of impulse rather than careful planning.

He wasn’t sure if it was insensitive to ask, but he did anyways.

“What happened?”

There was a pause in Guan Shan’s shaky breathing, fidgety hands stilling. He wasn’t sure what to say as he scooted over to the left and leaned back to sit on the ground tiredly. He Tian followed suit and sat in front of from him with his legs crossed—it made him appear younger than he was. A child-like look that he’d never seen on him before.

Eyes were trained on the ground. “My—my dad.” He figured it would be pointless to make excuses to avoid talking about it. “He bought the restaurant when I was younger. It was an investment he made for the family. He owed some people money I guess. They...ruined the place.” Pause. “I don’t remember much.” The last part was a lie. He remembered everything that night—it had been seared into his memory like a hot iron rod branding him. But he didn’t feel to need to tell him that.

He Tian nodded and urged him to continue, picking at the gravel underneath his fingertips absentmindedly. He was listening and sympathizing, in whatever way he knew how to. Creases between his eyebrows like he was focused on Guan Shan entirely. He appreciated it.

“My ma never told me everything. About him,” he continued. “I...I’m glad she never did.”

“Why’s that?” The dark-haired teen asked curiously with timidity, considerate of whether he was ready to say any more. Guan Shan tucked his hands under his thighs. Lips were chewed at until they bled from jagged cuts in them. A nervous habit he’d picked up when he was a child.

There was hesitation in the wordless opening and closing of his mouth. He felt like he was allowing someone to see a side of him that he’d never uncovered—a side that was hidden away under a cold exterior that learned not to let anyone in at some point.

“I’ve always had this image of the kind of person he is. I don’t want that to change, even if it means not _really_ knowing who he is.” Hearing it out loud made Guan Shan feel pathetic. Crying because of a man he barely knew then and still barely knows now.

“Do you miss him?” He Tian asked.

Shoulders shrugged passively. “I guess.”

Sharp stare from his grey eyes felt like they’d cut him. He Tian could see through the facade he maintained, like he knew how he really felt.

Was he acting tough, or simply pretending not to care? False pretense of fortitude masking tearstained skin and bruised knuckles. It would be easier to avoid the overwhelming sense of vulnerability that came with honesty. There was nothing he could do other than look away, head turned to the left with something that felt a lot like shame. That hadn’t been what He Tian wanted. He didn’t want the shameful avoidance of his gaze and toying fingers in the fabric of his sweats like he’d done something wrong. He hadn’t.

He kept talking to provide a diversion from the heaviness around them.

“It must get lonely without him around.” Too much? Probably. Wasn’t his place to be asking any of this, but he was willing to take whatever Guan Shan gave him.

“Not really. I was young when it happened so I didn’t really understand what was happening. My ma had it a lot worse, having to see him taken away and raising me alone.” He still didn’t know what had happened, yet it would be hard for his mother to have to talk about it. They never spoke about him anymore, as if it was a subject they avoided through mutual understanding.

“Yeah.” An agreement. He Tian didn’t know what it was like, having a parent taken away from you, but he figured it was just as bad as—even worse than—having them both be absent for most of your life. Something he was familiar with.

They sat there for ten more minutes, across from each other in the vacant park. Tears dried down and breathing steadied. Suddenly, Guan Shan spoke, fueled by a wave of valor. 

“Um...thank you.” He Tian cocked his head to the side. He _really_ felt like taking this back. “For being here, I guess.” It sounded aggressive the way he spat it out, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. One look at He Tian and he huffed.

“Shut up.”

“Didn’t say anything,” hands coming up in mock surrender as a wide smile plastered across his face. It was a rare opportunity—Guan Shan letting He Tian in and allowing for him to see this hidden side of him that he’d always covered up with swears and insults. Even rarer was the redhead _thanking_ him. The smile only grew wider as his cheeks flushed hotter, as red as his hair.

Guan Shan stood up abruptly and turned on his heels, walking at a brisk pace, yet slow enough for the taller teen to catch up. He did exactly that, throwing an arm around his shoulders like it was natural and letting an easy smirk toy at the corners of his lips. Eyes flitted away from his face, embarrassed.

 _Idiot_.


End file.
